Christopher Chance and the Missing Book
by mjf2468
Summary: Chance was an assassin at a crossroads, Winston an alcoholic cop burnt out on life when they met. They didn't know how a woman named Katherine Walters would change their lives, and forge a partnership. Six years later, that partnership is threatened when someone looks for the book they had hidden. The book over which three people had died protecting. Based on episodes 112 and 201.


Disclaimer: Only original ideas in here are mine. Everything else belongs to the show's writers and creators, including the Human Target comic creators Len Wein and Carmine Infantino, and D.C. Comics. No copyright infringement intended with this story, being written for my own amusement and other fans' enjoyment as well. The episode "Christopher Chance" was written by Jonathan E. Steinberg and Robbie Thompson is quoted extensively throughout this, however.

Summary: In the episode, "Christopher Chance" we discover who Katherine Walters was, and how Chance and Winston met. Chance was an assassin at a crossroads, Winston an alcoholic cop burnt out on life.

 **AN: I recently discovered my DVD set of season one of Human Target. I had watched the show in its original run but haven't watched it since. I remember how much I loved the show, but not much else. I binge-watched Season One, only to find out that Season Two never was released on DVD. So I guess I vented my frustration in writing up one of my most favorite episodes of season one, the season finale. I hope you enjoy it, and thanks for reading it. If you feel especially generous, please leave me a review.**

Nothing unusual was happening mid-morning in the warehouse section of town. Until three guerilla soldiers crashed through the windows into the main living area of a renovated warehouse where a man lived whose taken name was Christopher Chance.

Minutes before, Chance was sitting at his kitchen bar, about to drink a cup of coffee when the proximity alarms went off. Just like a well-oiled machine, Chance went upstairs, Guerrero went to one end while Winston went to the other end of the loft.

They barely had taken their positions when their intruders crashed through the windows while three more soldiers marched through the main door with guns at the ready after it had been removed by explosives. An additional three soldiers entered from the side door, after it was also blown off its hinges. Wearing infrared goggles, the soldiers went from room to room, searching for any signs of life.

The leader waved three of the soldiers to explore the upstairs while he walked down the hallway checking the other rooms on the main floor. A cup of coffee sitting at a long table, steam rising from it, caught his attention. The soldier set it down carefully and continued on his way, eyes alert, looking for their targets, having confirmed they were indeed there. Somewhere.

The soldiers upstairs each headed in a different direction, checking the various rooms as they passed. The unlucky soldier who was taking the end position, didn't see the punch coming from the tall, blonde man who had snuck out of a room as he passed. He was knocked out with one punch. Chance dragged him into the room, quickly took off the soldier's vest, balaclava, and goggles and put them on. He carefully looked into the hallway, not seeing the other two soldiers. He hurried to the room he knew Carmine was in, just in time to see the soldier lower his gun into position and take aim at the defenseless dog. Instead, Chance tapped him on the shoulder. The solider lowered his gun, turned around and acknowledged who he thought was his fellow solider. Until he looked down and realized he was barefoot. Suddenly, he was met with a punch which knocked him out like his colleague.

Chance removed the equipment, and after hearing gunfire, assumed the other attackers had been taken care of by his two teammates. He was about to descend the stairs when he met one last soldier coming up them. Chance knocked the man unconscious as well. As that last soldier tumbled down the stairs, Chance suddenly heard the dreaded sound of multiple guns cocking. He closed his eyes for a microsecond then turned to see what he had expected but dreaded to see…seven more soldiers surrounding his two friends, all with guns aimed at their heads and hearts.

Without being told, Chance slowly walked down the stairs to join them. As soon as he reached the bottom he was roughly grabbed, turned around, and his wrists bound behind him with rope. Rope he could easily get out of. However, he'd have to wait for the right opportunity, though, which wasn't now because of all the guns pointed at their heads. Chance then was pushed towards his friends. Chance exchanged a look with Winslow. Sighing, they both turned to look towards the door as a mysterious man entered the room and walked towards them.

He was about 5'8", of medium build, wearing an understated but well-made black suit and tie. His hair was black, cut short, with a neatly trimmed beard. Chance had never seen him before. The mysterious man nodded in turn to each of the three men bound and standing in front of him and said, "Good afternoon," in a comfortable voice, as if he'd arrived for a business meeting with them.

Chance watched as Guerrero and Wilson were led to the other room. Their large wooden table was overturned, items falling from it in all directions and making quite the satisfactory crashes. One of the soldiers brought two chairs over, while another soldier brought Guerrero and Wilson to them, forcing them to sit down.

Chance was then pushed past them into the smaller room where his workbench was located. He was rudely set into a chair sitting next to the bench. His eyes met Mr. X's gaze, who only stared at him with a nondescript look while standing over him. Mr. X turned towards the metal shelves where various tools and hardware were stored and selected three mayonnaise jars filled with various screws, nuts, bolts, and nails.

"Each one of these is a lie, and I'll know when you tell it." He placed the first jar on the bench, then continued with the second and third jar. "But when the third lie drops, your friends in the other room die. Simple enough?"

Chance kept his face stoic but he slowly blinked then looked back up at the man. Mr. X took that as a 'yes.'

"Perfect. Let's begin."

Mr. X pulled a folding chair out and places it directly in front of Chance and sat down with an air of ease as if he was joining a garden party's light conversation. "A number of years ago, we were close to acquiring something of great value. Something that once belonged to your former employer."

Interrupting, Chance asked, "What are you, one of his errand boys?"

Pausing a moment, a muscle in Mr. X's cheek twitched. Shaking his head, he said, "No, not at all." Smiling, he continued, "People I work with are former clients of his." He paused for emphasis, then added, " _Disgruntled_ former clients."

Chace allowed a questioning look cross his face as he tilted his head in an act of listening more carefully.

"We'd like to make sure we obtain this item before your former employer does. We believe you know where it is."

Keeping his face expressionless, Chance asked, "What makes you think that?"

"Because its disappearance is directly related to the death of Katherine Walters."

Chance pursed his lips and hoped he could carry the lie off. Willing his face to remain passive, he said, "Never heard of her."

However, just as he kinda expected but hoped against, Mr. X cocked his head and without taking his eyes off Chace, reached for the closest jar and nudged it off the table. With his eyes, Chance watched as it landed on the floor with a crash, spilling nuts and bolts all over. He then met Mr. X's gaze.

With a look of exaggerated innocence, Chance asked, "You think I know something about Katherine Walter's death?"

"I'm quite certain of it."

"How's that?"

"Because we're the people who hired you to kill her."

 _Oh, shit._ Chance looked at the man in front of him with fresh eyes. He wasn't sure how he was going to get himself, Wilson, and Guerrero out of this. With his statement regarding their hiring him, Chance knew what this was all about. After all, Katharine was killed because she had gotten involved in the search for a book which contained names and addresses of every client who had used his former employer's services. From what he had understood, Mr. X worked for one of those names in the book.

They couldn't hand over the book to them. It wasn't an option. And even if they did, they would certainly be killed anyway. However, the chances of getting Mr. X to believe he didn't know where the book ended up had just dropped to almost zero. His only hope was to drag this out as long as possible. But he only had one lie left before his friends would be killed. Chance didn't like those odds at all.

Chance had always wondered who had hired him to kill the woman he had only known for such a short time. Chance never got an answer to the question. Over the past six years, he and his partners made sure they carefully stayed away from anything that could possibly lead such people to their doorstep. It was rather unclear how they were able to find them now. Chance thought the only link must be Guerrero, but it wasn't due to any fault of the man. He comforted himself with the fact it was only a matter of time before they were found once again. Truth be told, Chance was surprised it had taken them this long to be tracked down.

"So. You hired the hit on Katherine," Chance stated, implying a question he wanted answered. As Chance studied him, Mr. X sat a little straighter.

"Who are you?" Chance asked.

Continuing as though Chance had never interrupted him, Mr. X said, "The item we're looking for…the last time anyone saw it was the day Katherine Walters died. We know she spent the forty-eight hours prior to that with you."

Chance didn't breathe; instead a muscle twitched in his cheek as Mr. X continued. "So, what I expect is for you to fill in the blanks of those forty-eight hours. To help us acquire now what was denied to us then."

Chance appeared to consider his request. Shrugging his shoulders, Chase said with a nonchalant air, "Well, if that's what you went through all this trouble for, you're going to have a disappointing afternoon."

Mr. X's face cracked a huge smile once again which Chase could tell was fake as he gave a light chuckle. "I think, with your friends' welfare on the line, you'll give me _exactly_ what I want." Moving the second jar closer to the edge of the table, Mr. X said, "Now…Katherine, and your failure to terminate her." Mr. X leaned back and settled into his chair, waiting for Chance to begin.

Chance was disappointed no other idea of escape or stalling technique had occurred to him yet. He really had no other choice but to start the story, and delay the ending as much as possible. Also leaning back into his chair, Chance told Mr. X about arriving at the safe house under the cover of Conrad Hall, getting past the two FBI agents sitting at the table, and talking to Katharine alone. How, because of her innocence and charm, and the fact she had no idea why she was being hunted, helped change his mind about carrying out his assignment. But it was mainly because she risked death or injury to provide help to a man she didn't even know that had convinced Chance it would be wrong to kill such a woman.

He didn't share this with Mr. X, but Chance quickly remembered the impression it made on him, finding proof that such goodness still existed in the world. Like he had told her, most people nowadays, if they saw a stranger bleeding, would run in the opposite direction. It was such a breath of fresh air, Chance made the decision right then and there not to kill her.

Chance went on to explain each step they took in finding out what was so valuable Katherine was meant to die for. He got to the part where he found the briefcase with the book in it. However, he decided to take one more chance.

"Found the storage container. But it was empty. Someone had beat us to it."

Chance knew he had little chance of being believed, but he had survived on less than that plenty of times before. However, this time his luck didn't hold out.

The second mayonnaise jar crashed to the ground, spilling nuts and bolts all over the floor.

After the sounds of rolling bits of iron and steel stopped, Mr. X. cleared his throat. "You want to try that once more?"

Chance continued his story. Of meeting Baptiste outside the storage sheds. Of attempting to outrun him. Of their struggle on the pier, with the briefcase going overboard into the water during their struggle.

Chance looked up at Mr. X, suddenly unsure as to what to say. Mr. X simply shook his head, stood up and walked a few paces away from Chance. "We dredged up and down that channel, four miles in each direction." Turning to face Chance, he said, "No case, no book." The dangerous man crouched down in front of Chance, holding the last jar by its lid. "Where's the book?"

Chance couldn't help but try to swallow the lump in his throat. His eyes barreled into those of Mr. X. "Why don't you bug Baptiste? He's the one who blew up the boat. Killed a good man. He lost your book."

Mr. X continued to rest on his haunches, looking at Chance, obviously attempting to root out any last lies Chance was giving him. "No police." He stood up, obviously thinking things over. "All that fighting, the shooting, the explosion…" Mr. X cocked his head as a thought occurred to him. "Where _were_ the police?"

Chance could practically see a light bulb go off inside Mr. X's mind. Mr. X, without another word to Chance, turned abruptly, grabbed his suit jacket and rushed out the door.

Pretending more nonchalance than he was feeling, Chance shrugged at the remaining guard. For once regretting the fact the walls of the warehouse were sound-proof, Chance wished he could hear what was going on out there. However, he had a fairly good idea what was happening. Mr. X went to ask Winston about the book, which Chance had attempted at all costs to avoid or delay. However, their luck apparently had run out that day.

Taking one last shot, he asked the guard, "What's your boss up to out there?"

The guard simply returned his look silently, not even changing position. Just staying where he'd been standing throughout the entire conversation with Mr. X. Chance casually looked around the room, taking in every possible advantage he'd have in the room. He then began a conversation to hopefully distract the guard. Until he heard the words over the radio he was waiting for…and casually placed his feet on the table. "You know, aggression is good."

"We got a breach," came over the radio. "Finish him and get out here."

Chance quickly repositioned his feet on the table and kicked it into the guard. The guard fell back into the barrel of rakes and hoes he had in the corner. Chance grabbed the knife he kept under the desk, sliced the ropes binding his hands, and flung himself at the guard coming towards him. Attempting to find a good place to stab the guard, Chance struggled until he succeeded. As he ran out of the room towards where Winston was, he shot two more soldiers along the way. He abruptly stopped himself short as he entered the side room and found Winston's chair empty.

As that realization made its way through his brain, Chance heard a gun cock behind him, then gunfire. Chance, after realizing he wasn't shot, slowly turned around to find Joubert, his former boss, holding a gun. His peripheral vision takes in the two more soldiers dead on the floor. Chance quickly pointed his gun at Joubert, who stared without flinching at the threat.

"Hello, Junior."

Chance fired without a second thought. Once, twice. However, the trigger fell both times on an empty chamber. What a time to run out of bullets.

Joubert allowed a shocked look to appear on his face. "That's the thanks I get for coming to save your life, huh?"

Lowering his gun, Joubert walked slowly toward Chance. "I suppose I should have expected that. Well, this is good, you know. We have lots of time now." Joubert looked around, taking in the surroundings. "To talk. Given what we're about to undertake."

Chance's eyes narrowed. "What are you talking about?"

As if they were back in time when he would explain a lesson to the younger man, Joubert said, "They've got your partner, don't they? So… you want Winston back? Don't you?"

Chance watched as Joubert walked even closer to him, never losing his gaze. In a softer voice, he said, "And I want my book back. So I guess we're working together again."

 _Like hell,_ Chance thought. Out loud he said, "I'm not going anywhere with you."

Giving a chuckle, Joubert shook his head. "I don't think you have a choice now."

Neither man was aware of another's approach until they heard another gun cock. "Hey, dude," Guerrero said as he approached them.

Joubert slowly turned to consider the new threat. "Well, whoopee-doo," meeting Guerrero's eyes. Turning back to Chance, Joubert smirked. "You're still keeping the same company, huh?"

As if on cue, but only because he was an intelligent dog, Carmine chose this moment to growl. Chance wanted to reward him, but he couldn't move. He kept his eyes on Joubert, who stated "Yeah, all kinds of company, after all." Exchanging a glance with Guerrero once more, he asked Chance, "What's it gonna be then?"

Chance quickly reviewed once more all the options they had. Which weren't many. On their own, Chance and Guerrero didn't have the resources to go after Winston. So…

Catching Guerrero's eye, Chance raised his eyebrows and cocked his head slightly. Guerrero slowly lowered his gun in reluctant agreement. "Well, I guess we're going to work with you after all, Joubert," Chance told his former employer.

 **AN: So, what you think? Do an author a favor and let me know what you think of this fleshing out of the episode. And if you feel especially kind, come back when I add Chapter two. Which will be totally AU, unless I am lucky. Because I don't recall any episodes of the second season, and am not able to watch any. But because I want Winston rescued, I've been writing what I think could have happened, with using the minimal information I had been able to gather from the Internet.**


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